


Black Coffee

by eyesfixedonthesun22



Series: Black Coffee [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Camping, Creampie, Fake Dating, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Meet-Cute, Oral Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, bucky fluff, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:02:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19005403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesfixedonthesun22/pseuds/eyesfixedonthesun22
Summary: Coffee aroma surrounds you as you prepare for a long day of studying in your favorite coffee shop. Your focus is shattered by a handsome stranger demanding a very large favor-pretend to be his girlfriend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my entry to @stuck-y-together”s 1K writing challenge. Congrats, Christina!! My prompt was“I was just trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man…” Age wise, Reader is graduate student or older. Bucky isn’t cradle robbing.

You’ve been at Quay 4, your favorite coffee shop, for about a half hour now. It’s taken you this long to set up your study space exactly how you need. You managed to snag a booth located near the giant windows; lending you a gorgeous view of the Brooklyn Bridge and the East River. Your laptop is plugged into the socket, your textbook lays open, highlighters and colored pens organized in rainbow order, and your notebook open to a fresh page. Set off to the side is a large coffee alongside an equally large cinnamon roll. You were ready for the long haul. This exam was still nearly a week away but you wanted to be prepared. Nothing but focus in your future. 

You scowl at the window adjacent to your booth. A man was peering inside, effectively shattering your already shaky focus. What did this guy want? His face disappears from the window and you look back the blank page ready to begin. 

The bell on the shop door dings. It’s staring man. He’s attempting to catch his breath while searching around frantically. Curious as you may be, it’s study time. You pick up your favorite pen when you feel the stare. Scratch that. You feel the presence. Someone is standing at the edge of your table; anxiously shifting their weight from one foot to another. 

“I need your help.” You look up to see the same man who was creeping in the window. You lower your pen ready to chew him out and he takes it as permission to sit down. Not just down. In your half of the booth, annoyingly close to you. “Follow my lead and I’ll make it up to you.” 

The door to the shop dings once more and the strange man’s arm shoots into the air to beckon the two men over to the booth. Your booth. 

“So this is the girlfriend, Buck.”

“This is her!” He throws his arm around you. 

Your brows raise on their own volition. Your face must be too shocked for Mr. Stranger’s desire cause he nudges your foot gently under the table before continuing. 

“Sorry hun. I know I forgot to mention Sam and Steve were coming when you asked to get coffee. Didn’t mean to surprise you.” 

“No I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have crowded the table with all my study materials if I knew we’d have  _ company… _ ” You pause unsure. “babe?” 

It didn’t suit him as a pet name. You made a mental note to choose a different one next time. What was his name again? Buck? Not sure if that’s a full name or a nickname. I guess you could work with it. Bucky suggests Sam and Steve get coffee, adding his own black coffee to their order so he can help you pack up. You groan internally having got it perfectly arranged only a short while ago.

“Details. My name is James but I go by Bucky. My favorite color is red. We started dating a month ago. We’re taking things slow ‘cause I have a fear of rejection. We met….we met…crap.”

“Here at the coffee shop?” You offer. You genuinely surprise yourself. You feel compelled to help Mr. Stranger. No. Not a stranger. Bucky. “For someone with a fear of rejection, selecting a random stranger to fake date seems a bit bold.”

He’s stunned but chuckles lightly. You tell him your name, nickname, and corresponding details. “I bought you a cinnamon roll and had it sent to your table asking you to chat.” 

“You’re good at this. Fake date often?”

At this point, Sam and Steve have gathered their drinks from the counter and are headed back to the booth. You lean over and whisper in Buckys ear “it pays the bills”. 

He’s laughing in earnest when the pair sit down. They slide a bowl sized mug of black coffee over to Bucky. “

“Where’s the sugar?” 

“You said a black coffee.” 

Steve brings his fingers to his face and pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s clearly heard the ensuing argument one too many times before. 

“Tin man, if you want sugar it’s  _ not _ a black coffee.” 

“ _Yes_ _it is_! Sugar doesn’t change the color.” 

“Just order a coffee with no cream add sugar.”

“They don’t add enough!” 

Steve delicately spoons the whipped cream off his own mug and eats it while checking the weather on his phone. His disinterest in the argument at hand is comical. He ignores his friends not unlike a stoned faced parent. You’re still reeling at how passionate your “boyfriend” was about black coffee. 

“Fine I’ll go get the sugar.” Bucky huffs. Sam coughs lightly, something sounding oddly like diabetes, and pulls his hand from his jacket pocket dropping what must be 30 packets of sugar onto the table. 

“If you  _ had _ the packets already  _ why- _ ”

“Enough you two. We came here to meet Buck’s girlfriend not force her to listen to us bicker.” 

Your hand rests on the table, toying with the edge of a napkin. Bucky scoots his hand over from his side of the table to rest gently atop yours; fingers gently intertwining. 

You look over to him but the words die in your throat the second you meet his eyes. You hadn’t had a chance to get a good look at him since this whole ordeal began. 

He was handsome, ruggedly so. He has full cheeks and even fuller lips. His eyelashes are annoyingly long; the kind women curse men for. He’s wearing a plain white t shirt with a light bomber jacket thrown on top to combat the light breeze today. His shoulder length hair fell in shiny waves. You were close enough to feel comforted by the wafts of his body wash. He was expressive with his eyebrows. Wait. No. He was raising them in a slightly panicked inquisitive expression.

“Doll? Sam asked you a question.” 

“God you two are gross already. Already drowning in each others eyes.” 

A staccato beeping interrupts your assessment of Bucky and returns functional ability to your brain. Steve’s brows knit together as he reads a message off his phone. 

“Nat needs us to help set up for that thing tonight, Sam.”

“Damn. I hoped we were off the hook.” 

“It would appear not.” Steve’s standing, throwing on his jacket. “Sorry we didn’t get to chat more hun. We’ve been dying to meet you.” 

“More like didn’t believe you exist-” Sam huffs as he’s met with a sharp elbow to his ribs. He feigns hurt before his expression changes to one of mischief. “Barnes, why don’t you bring your girl tonight?”

“No!” Bucky shouts abruptly. “I mean, she has an exam to study for. School comes first and all.” 

Sam snatches a piece of paper off your stack of study materials. “Schedule says the exam is in four days. You think you can take the night off for some fun?” 

You stutter responses with three pairs of eyes staring you down before gaining composure. “Studies have shown study breaks improve information retention… ”

Steve smiles genuinely while Sam raises a smug brow at Bucky. “Great it’s settled. See you tonight, guys.” 

Once the two men are out of sight, Bucky collapses back into the booth next to you, jostling his coffee dangerously. His head is cradled in his hands as he mutters to himself.  You sip your own beverage waiting for an explanation but none comes. 

“Darling?” you say in mock voice to get his attention. He startles as if you had teleported into the booth.

“You  _ have _ to come tonight. If you don’t, Sam will never let me hear the end of it.” 

“Hold the phone, dude. **I was just trying to get my morning coffee, not get kidnapped by some strange man…** ” An attractive and pleasant smelling strange man. 

“Let’s not exaggerate, doll. A rooftop barbeque with the Avengers is hardly kidnapping.”

Your eyes go wide. You know who the strange cute man is. How did you not see it before? If this was Bucky Barnes, Winter Soldier, they had to have been-shit. 

“I had coffee with Captain America and Falcon. Cool cool cool.” 

Bucky smirks at your nonchalance. “Does that mean you’re willing go eat ribs with me tonight?”

“I guess I could use a study break.” 


	2. Part 2

The large, cozy booth right in front of the picture windows at the coffeeshop Quay 4 had been occupied most of the day. You had set up all your vast array of study materials when a handsome stranger had interrupted your schoolwork. The materials had been hurriedly shuffled away when two of the man's friends had arrived expecting to meet his girlfriend.

You now knew the man was none other than Bucky Barnes. His two friends had been Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson of the Avengers. A handful of hours after the initial encounter, you were still trying to wrap your head around it. Literally. Bucky had even drawn you a diagram.

Your notebook, highlighters, pens, and sticky notes were all strewn about the table once more. You ached to put them back into the organized rows you’d had them in earlier before your morning had gotten turned upside down. Each time you went to grab one of the writing utensils, it seemed it was the one Bucky needed to snatch up to add to his diagrams and notes. 

“So right around here I pulled Steve out of the river,” He circles violently on the makeshift timeline. “And then the whole civil war thing. But I don’t fully understand what happened there.” He uses a red pen to scribble multiple question marks a bit further down the line. “Then there was this stretch here in Wakanda and now I’m better.” 

He looks up at you hopefully. 

“So…after the river you were back with Hydra for a bit?”

“No no no. I went to Bucharest!” He taps the notebook at a point on the timeline where a purple circle is drawn. “Remember the nice plum merchant? But I definitely didn’t bomb T’Chaka in Vienna.”

“Is that purple circle supposed to remind me of the plums or the bombs?”

He tosses the highlighter across the table before burying his head in his hands. “I give up. This isn’t gonna work.”

“Cut me some slack, Bucky. I’m trying to fabricate an entire relationship in an afternoon and your life isn’t exactly the easiest to memorize.”

“I know. It’s fine.” He meets your eyes with his piercing blue ones. His brows are knitted tightly. “Just forget the whole thing. This was horribly stupid for me to ask you.” The hurt in his tone makes you wish you could take back the impatient rant before it had tumbled from your mouth.

He’s dejected. His shoulders slump as he finishes the dregs of his second black coffee. You’d like to give up. It’d be easier to call it a day and go home, leaving the strange and stunning man to figure out the dilemma without you. Something compels you to do otherwise. The man in front of you was one of the most feared assassins turned superhero. He didn’t look like one. He was soft, eager to please, and fiercely loyal to his friends. In the handful of hours spent together in the coffeeshop you’d already seen a glimpse of his complexity. Any annoyance you held prior fades into compassion.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, Bucky,” you begin hesitantly. “While all your past is certainly important to who you are now, it maybe isn’t the most important for our  _ relationship _ .”

“Meaning?”

“I got the gist of what you’ve been through. It’s a shitstorm.” He chuckles darkly. His laughter brings a smile to your lips. “Our meeting and  _ relationship  _ all started a month ago. That’s what you’d said to your friends. What’s current Bucky like?”

“First of all, doll. You don’t need to do air quotes every time you say our  _ relationship _ . I’m in on the ruse, remember?” His posture seems lighter than before; less deflated. “You make a good point though.” 

“I’ve been known to do that from time to time.” You say with a smirk. 

* * *

 

As it turns out, you and Bucky have a lot of things in common. He’s incredibly jealous you’ve gone back to school for a graduate degree. He misses learning and spends a lot of free time at the public library. He’s currently teaching himself what he insists is introductory mechanical and electrical engineering. You were shocked you’d never seen him there and more surprised of the subject matter he’d chosen to read.

You both have dogs. Bucky’s is a large (after seeing some photos, you correct him to extra-large) fluffy mutt of some type. Her name is Ruby. She’s combat and therapy trained. You also have a mutt, but more medium sized. His name is Rufus. He is not combat trained and instead prefers to assault your face with kisses and storm the borders of your bed.

Bucky Barnes is a gentle soul. He may present a hard, sarcastic exterior but beneath all that he’s a giant teddy bear. He claims to be an excellent breakfast chef, will inhale a pint of butter pecan ice cream, and often has conversations with Banner about some of the new scientific developments of the modern age. He speaks fondly of his teammates. His “found family” as he calls them. When dusk starts to creep its way over the river, you’re excited to meet them all. You had already texted your next-door neighbor to make sure Rufus would get dinner and be walked. You swallow the last of your anxieties, pack your backpack, and make the walk with Bucky towards the tower. 

* * *

“School during the summer? Sounds like torture to me.” You’re nibbling on some delectable ribs courtesy of Sam Wilson. You’ve settled into an enjoyable conversation with the grill master himself, Clint, Bruce, and Natasha. Bucky’s over by the snack bar with Steve and Tony.

“That’s grad school for you. This is the end of my first year. One year more and I’ll be done!” 

“Would you ever do a doctorate?” Bruce asks. 

“I think this program is more than enough for now.” Bucky had silently joined you at your side; Ruby trotting closely behind him. 

“Don’t convince her to do more school. I hardly see her as it is.” He jokes convincingly and leans in to quickly peck your temple. A flush rises from your chest to cheeks. You two hadn’t discussed physical affection. How the hell had you forgotten such a crucial detail? It wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, the patch of skin where his lips had planted seemed to ache for more. All of you did. You clearly didn’t have your head on straight. Bucky, despite being a stunning physical specimen, was still a stranger. You thought he was hot. Of course. There was no way you could have  _ actual _ feelings for a man that just this morning had plopped himself into your life. 

The barbeque hadn’t been what you expected. Tony should have been the cocky asshole you’d seen on the news. Steve should have had a stick up his ass. Natasha should have been cold and Russian. Was Russian even a personality trait? Everything you thought was wrong. 

The Avengers carefully crafted personas for television and the press were shrugged off here in their home. Steve cussed more than anyone on the team. Tony, while still a bit too sure of himself, was one of the most generous hosts you’d ever met. Natasha teased Peter like a mother. Sam had given you such a large hug when you entered you thought your ribs would never recover. Everyone was so loving. You may make it out of this date with the fake girlfriend gambit still intact.

Bucky hands you another plate of food. You were near full to bursting but the food was delicious. Sam had not only made multiple racks of smoked ribs but chopped brisket, pulled pork, and a handful of different homemade sauces. This plate had a pulled pork sandwich, potato salad, and baked beans. 

“Pulled pork with  _ no  _ coleslaw, spicy  _ not  _ sweet sauce, and the German potato salad  _ not  _ regular.” The two of you had remembered to run over both of your preferences for the usual backyard barbeque spread. Even so, you were proud Bucky had remembered. You said a thank you and speared a potato. 

“Anything for you, darlin’.” His palm trails down your back, squeezes once at your hips, and disappears. He’s returned to his conversation with Steve. Your skin was on fire. Sure, the sweltering July heat contributed, but this heat stirred from deep inside you. How the hell had this doofy idiot managed to weasel his way into your heart in such a quick period of time? The sickly-sweet pet names would usually have you nauseated and here you were nearly swooning. 

Your revere is interrupted. The contents of your plate go flying. The previously conversing group scream and run in terror. Chaos has ensued. You hear the deep boof from Ruby before everything is muffled. 

Darkness. 

  
  



	3. Part 3

Your body, previously heated at the growing fondness for Bucky, feels chilled as you stir. You hear your name called over and over. It sounds like it’s being called down a long echoing tunnel. The sounds refuse to be made crisp and clear. 

Warmth. 

Two sources of heat frame the sides of your face. The words start to behave and form sentences. 

“Open your eyes, doll. You okay? I need you to tell me you’re okay.” The warmth travels paths up and down your arms. Is someone shaking you? “I’m gonna kill that child.” 

“Who are we killing?” Your eyes open and immediately shut. 

Ouch. Too bright. 

You sit up with Bucky’s help. From the new angle you’re no longer blinded when you open your eyes. “What the hell happened? Why am I wet?”

“Peter thought it would be funny to attack us all with water balloons.” Steve said. 

“Only problem is the little asshole has invented a water balloon gun and the calibration was off. Too forceful and rapid fire.” Bucky grumps and glares at Peter. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Barnes. I didn’t even hit her.” 

“Don’t apologize, Peter.” You wince a little, moving to a standing position. Bucky’s still examining your head. “I thought it was funny. I’m just the clumsiest person on earth. Next time, aim for the boyfriend.” The word felt foreign on your lips but brought you a stupid amount of joy. Did you have a concussion?

“You tripped, hit your head, and somehow managed to fall into the pool.” Clint snorts. 

“Sounds about right.” You shoot him a finger gun. “Really I’m fine.” You try to push Bucky’s examining hands away. Your body sways unconvincingly, completely undoing your attempt at downplaying the injuries. 

“No, you aren’t. Let’s go patch you up and get you out of these wet clothes.” You’re ready to protest but Bucky’s steering you back inside toward the elevators. Ruby follows behind. 

In the elevator you lean into Bucky’s side. The warmth he radiates feels even more needed now in the A/C cooled interior. His soft shirt against your cheek soothes you. The fabric is saturated with a comforting fresh smell you’d already come to associate with Bucky.

“Wait! How the hell are you dry if I fell in the pool?!” You shoot him an accusing glare. “You didn’t try to save me!?”

“Before I ran over, Ruby was already hauling you up the steps.” You glance down at the pooch. Her previously fluffy fur is plastered to her skin. It drips rivulets onto the elevator floor.

“You must have made a good impression on her, doll.” 

You run a hand through the damp hair at her ear, scratching lightly. Silently you thank her extra training. You wonder if Bucky takes the time to teach her himself. It’s not much of a thank you, but her thumping tail lets you know it’s welcome. Rufus probably would have just stood at the edge of the pool and barked; that is, if he would have moved at all. Bucky leads you off the elevator through a richly decorated living space down a long hallway. You follow along wordlessly, taking in the surroundings until you reach his bedroom.

“Ruby. Go lay down.” Bucky commands softy. She shakes herself dry once more before curling up in the giant plush dog bed in the corner of Bucky’s bedroom. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.” 

“So that was your plan all along, Barnes.” He’s rifling through his dresser but pauses. “If you wanted me naked in your room, all you had to do was ask.” 

The gulp he swallows is audible. “Darling, I didn’t mean- I swear I just- Fuck.”

“I’m messing with you.” Fresh heat rushes to your cheeks realizing how much your chiding had shaken him. Now you were thinking about actually getting naked. Naked for  _ other  _ circumstances. Damn your wandering mind.

He hands you a pair of neatly folded grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Even without them near your nose, you can bet the same fresh scent clings to their fibers. Bucky’s smell. 

“Bathroom is through there.” He gestures vaguely. He’s not meeting your eyes. “Just let me in when you’re dressed so I can look at that gash on your head.” 

Your hand reaches instinctively to touch at your temple. Ouch. That was a mistake. 

In the safety of the bathroom, you let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. A quick glance in the mirror has you recoiling at your reflection. The fall into the pool had transformed you into a drowned rat. Your makeup was a lost cause. Sitting in a decorative basket is a collection of towels. You grab a washcloth and wipe the remnants away. Your hair would have to airdry. You tousle it a bit and comb out any knots the best you can with your fingers. You strip off the sopping clothes and hang them over a rail in his shower. After toweling off the rest of the dampness, the soft fleece of the sweatpants and clean cotton feel heavenly against your skin. It was the same feeling you’d always loved as a child. After a day at the beach or pool, changing into soft, clean clothes always felt better against your sun-soaked skin. 

You opened the bathroom door. Bucky was laying on his bed spread eagle. His eyes were closed allowing you to study him undetected. He’d taken off the jacket he’d worn earlier today. What you’d previously thought was a white t-shirt underneath was a tank top. One of his arms was tanned a deep brown like the rest of his skin. The other glinted the light from the window in splintered patterns on the wall. He was gorgeous. You wonder how it would feel to see him like this more. What would it be like to walk into a room and see your “boyfriend” snoozing on the bed? Ruby shifts to acknowledge you. Her movement alerts Bucky.

“Nap time?” You ask. Hoping the warble of pitch doesn’t somehow betray your daydreams.

“Sometimes this much socializing takes a lot out of me. I love ‘em. But the quiet is nice.” You smile warmly not expecting such an honest answer. “Let me get a look at your head.” 

He has you sit on the toilet while he gets out the first aid kit from under the sink. Thankfully the gash looks worse than it is. No stitches needed he had said with certainty. Bucky kneels in front of you while he cleans the cut. In no time at all, it’s covered with a bandage and antibiotic ointment. He’s still on his knees. The silence between you is pleasant and agreeable but something is nagging at the back of your brain.

“Bucky?” You ask. He’s rolling up the long pant legs of his sweatpants to a suitable length for you. Occasionally, the pads of his fingers graze against your skin. “How long are we going to do this?” 

His fingers pause. 

“Don’t wanna stay my captive forever?” Despite the joke his expression is guarded. He speaks more to himself than you, “Sam’s bound to figure out I can’t  _ actually  _ land a girl like you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Doll, seriously. You’re kicking ass in school, have an amazing future lined up for you, and you’re way out of my league. All things that are great for rubbing in Sam’s face, but this isn’t right.”

The silence returns. 

“It’s not right?” 

He scoffs. “Understatement of the year.”

“Wow. I guess I didn’t realize how  _ not right  _ I am. Thanks for enlightening me.”

The vulnerability this stranger had managed to pull out of you in a day was terrifying enough but to have him laugh at you was unacceptable; backhanded compliment or otherwise. Clearly, you’d been delusional earlier and the bump to your head must have knocked you back into reality. He considers me good enough to flaunt to Wilson but not good enough for him to actually date. You stand and stomp towards the door. 

“Darling, wait! What did I say?”

“Enough!” you snap. His eyes go wide; putting together the pieces. “Enough cute names, enough fake dating, I’m done.”

“You misunderstood. I meant that you deserve more than a fake relationship and you certainly deserve more than me.” You pause in the doorway. “You’re beautiful and smart. I’ve known you for less than 24 hours and you’ve had me a sputtering mess for nearly all of them. I’m just some guy who asked you for a stupid favor this morning because I told a pathetic lie to my friends. Every fact I learned about you, every quirk, has made me realize how thoroughly inadequate I am.” 

Your brain, formerly full of rage fueled quips, struggles to form words.

“I’m not stupid enough to think this is love, but damn if I’m not smitten with you, doll. I scoffed because with every skeleton in my closet I’ve been waiting for you to bail.” 

“I did try to drown myself.” You attempt to contain the smirk playing at your lips but fail. 

“Gonna have to do better if you’re gonna hang around a gang of superheroes.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Next time?” He closes the distance between you and hugs you tight to his chest. He can smell the notes of your shampoo mixing with the chlorine as he presses a kiss to your scalp. There’s a short warning boof before the two of you are tackled by Ruby in her own fashion of a hug. 

“Can I take you on a real first date?”

“Was this one not lively enough for you, Barnes?!”


	4. Chapter 4

The walk to Quay 4 only takes a couple of minutes; one of the pluses about staying at your apartment and not at the tower with Bucky. The occasional jingle of your keys against the glass growler act like windchimes in the early fall breeze. You round the corner of the final block and come face to face with one of your favorite views of the city. The East River is nestled between lush trees. Some of them have started show hints of the color change at their edges but most are vibrant green determined to hold onto the last remnants of summer. The Brooklyn Bridge is in the backdrop, already beginning to fill with morning commuters you note. That last detail has you pick up your pace a bit. 

The barista at the coffeeshop greets you by name as you hand over the growler to be filled with cold brew. It should last the two of you your entire trip. You also order some pastries, your regular hot coffee, and Bucky’s black with 15 sugars. The barista doesn’t bat an eye. 

“Where is the sugar addict and the pups anyway?” 

The two of you clearly came to the shop too often. 

“He  _ should  _ be walking back from the dog park now with both of the mutts and packing the last bits into the car.” 

“Packing?”

“As celebration for me being done with school we’re headed up to Adirondack State Park. We’re taking both the fluff balls and camping for a week.” You quickly shoot off a text to Bucky telling him your on your way back. You hope the car is packed so you can start the seven hour drive and beat the worst of the traffic. “No work, no school, and maybe no cell service if we’re lucky.” 

The barista wishes you a safe trip and hands over the growler. It’s cool to the touch and feels pleasant during the walk back. Despite fall officially arriving next week, the weather in Brooklyn still felt warm. You knew it could very well change further north. 

You truly couldn’t believe it was fall already. Truth be told, you hadn’t had much of a summer as it was filled with classes, papers, and final exams to wrap up your graduate degree. Somewhere in the haze and craziness, you and Bucky had passed your one year anniversary. 

You’d been surrounded by pens and textbooks. Notecards littered the floor in semi-organized piles. Bucky had let you lock yourself in your office all day to study for a particularly challenging exam. It wasn’t until bedtime, you remember, he’d tapped on your office door. Both Ruby and Rufus had assaulted you with kisses and demanded pets from their long lost mother. Being engrossed in the puppy love, you hadn’t realized Bucky had entered and brought in a cupcake with a single candle. 

“Happy Anniversary, doll.” He had said with a sleepy but beaming smile. “I know you’re studying, so I don’t want to derail your progress, but I love you. I can’t wait until we can celebrate.” 

You’d started sobbing. You weren’t sure if it was the thoughtfulness, the sleep deprivation, or the fact you’d been so stressed you’d forgotten the anniversary all together. Bucky had understood of course. This trip was a delayed anniversary trip of sorts in addition to celebration grad school being completed. The memory was a fond one and you hoped the trip would be the celebration you both deserved.

You turn onto your street and are greeted by a stunning view of your boyfriends plump backside. The rest of him is buried, digging around in the back of the jeep no doubt triple checking the camping supplies. Your catcall and whistle startles Bucky and alerts the dogs of your return. 

“Hey hot stuff!” You come up and smack his behind. “I got some cold bean juice for you.” 

“I love cold bean juice...but don’t tell my girlfriend I prostituted my behind for it.” He pulls you into a quick hug and kiss, lightly squeezing your own bottom. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You stow the coffee in with the rest of your food in the cooler. “I’m certain your girlfriend is too busy wondering if everything is packed and if we still have a chance on beating traffic.” 

“Then I would ask why my girlfriend is talking in third person and has travel tendencies like some 55 year old suburban father.” He scoffs; a lopsided smile playing on his lips before he takes a long pull from his coffee. “But yes, everything is packed and ready to go.” 

You call the dogs up into the backseat and haul yourself into the passenger side. Bucky slides his mirror aviators off the top of his head and onto his face, queues the road trip playlist you’d both made the night prior, and coaxes the jeeps engine to life.  

* * *

The drive had gone smooth enough. The polished, hard, grey surfaces of the city had melted and changed into open roads surrounded by multicolored countryside. You found yourself ignoring all the books and things you’d brought to pass the time and embraced staring out the window. It was relaxing to look out at the farmhouses or abandoned buildings and imagine what lives had been lived in them and what the people had been like. Bucky had decided to turn the drive into his own personal concert series and sang each and every song with gusto until his throat started to get sore. 

Bucky had insisted you guys chose one the rustic sites far away from the loop of traditional campsites with water and electric (and near the showers you’d noted). Something about “it’s not real camping if you can charge your phone”. After checking in with the ranger and procuring a map, you drove off in the direction of your plot. 

You had to hand it to him for choosing a beautiful spot. He’d certainly done his research. The site was heavily wooded along the dirt path leading up to it. It opened up to a medium sized clearing which is more than large enough to park the Jeep and set up camp. On the east side of the clearing was a creek. If you had to guess, it was probably a moderate size tributary by the steady rushing of water sounds against the stone banks but likely no larger than five feet across. On the west side there was a smattering of wild flowers basking in the sunshine. During your admiration of the site, Bucky had already done a loop of observation and chosen the flattest spot on high ground for the tent. 

“You just gonna stand and gawk or help me set up camp, darling.” He called to you already having unrolled the tent tarp. “Unless of course your gawking at me…” 

He’s smirking into the sunlight. Sadly the sunglasses are blocking his stunning ice blue eyes, but the vibrant smile and his carefree posture are enough to make you sigh. Your boyfriend had been through a lot. Seeing him so carefree never failed to fill your heart. 

Setting up camp didn’t take long. Despite Bucky’s joking requests for help, he had a very dictatorial style of camp set up and took over most of the tasks himself. You didn’t mind unfolding one of the lounge chairs and keeping an eye on the dogs exploring their surroundings (and sneaky glances at your slick with sweat boyfriend). 

Dusk had settled over the campsite and somehow it was more beautiful than when it had been bathed in sunlight. Bucky had started a large fire in a homemade fire pit hours ago. The fire had finally produced enough coals for you to set up the large cast iron pan on the fire to begin cooking dinner. The smells wafting from the fire were heavenly and stirred your stomach. Bucky ignited the solar powered lanterns you brought with and the plot was bathed in a warm almost candlelight glow. Ruby and Rufus had wiped themselves out with exploring and chasing fireflies. They were both now curled up next to the fire rousing only in hope of some cooking fallout. 

You fished the foil wrapped potatoes out of the blazing hot coals, adding two to Bucky’s plate and one on your own. The meat had a perfect crispy outside thanks to the cast iron’s caramelization. You’d made sure to make enough protein and tossed some sweet potatoes in to give the dogs a special dinner tonight. Last thing to go on your plates were the veggie skewers from the grill grate. It was a damn good meal considering you were rusty on your camp cooking skills. 

Fully sated, the two of you lounged in the freestanding hammock you’d managed to convince Bucky to bring. The crackling of the fire created a relaxing soundtrack along with the sounds of the forest and the babbling of the stream. The dogs had curled up together on their outdoor bed. 

“Darling?” The word is mumbled into the crown of your head while you lay across Bucky’s chest. “I’m so proud of you.” 

You were fully ready to brush off the praise like you usually do but the self deprecating joke died in your throat. You found yourself overwhelmed and a tad emotional. You were done. You’d finished your second degree. You lifted your head to meet your boyfriend's eyes. 

“Thank you, Buck. Happy late Anniversary.” 

He kisses your forehead before his lips meet yours. The kiss is sweet and delicate and filled with love. The fire pit and the flames within it had burnt down to a slow sultry roll. You pull away and brush back a stray lock of hair that had fallen across Bucky’s forehead; the same one that always went rogue. 

“So… how far away is the nearest campsite?” 

“A couple miles at least. Why?” 

“Far enough if someone were to scream or something, no one would hear?”

“Are you planning on murdering me, love?”

“Not exactly.” You gaze into his eyes and see the amber fire reflected in the blue pools. The deep tan of his summer skin is backlight from the light cast from the pit and lanterns. It’s sinful how good he looks right now. You shift your weight in the hammock so his thigh rests between your legs. He still looks puzzled and moderately worried about you turning into an axe murderer. You roll your hips as much as the hammock net permits and plant a kiss to the exposed skin on his neck. 

“Ohhhhhh!” The exclamation turns to a low groan as you suck deeply onto his neck. He tries to pull you into a new position for better access-

“What the hell babe!” You plop not so gracefully onto the cool grass. “If you weren’t in the mood you just had to say so.” 

He can tell your anger is lighthearted as you’re unable to contain your giggles. In the needy attempt to touch you, Bucky had disrupted the equilibrium of the hammock and tumbled you to the dirt. 

“I told you I hate this damn thing!” Bucky attempts to get out himself but stumbles as if to prove his point further. “Tent!” He points at the blue structure and says the word with conviction. You think it’s a command to get the lazy dogs to move but as you scan his body you can see the very clear bulge in his tight shorts. It was safe to assume the relaxation period had come to an end. 


	5. Chapter 5

You never thought the sound of a tent zipper closing could be arousing, yet here you are. Bucky had gently commanded both you and the dogs into the tent while he turned down the campsite for the evening. 

“Change into something nice, doll. I’ll be in before you know it.” He pecked your cheek before beginning to secure the rest of your foodstuffs and helping the fire die down a bit more. 

Was that supposed to be a joke? Something nice. You kicked yourself for not thinking of  _ something nice _ while packing for a long weekend in the woods. You rifle through your duffle bag hoping maybe you brought something that would make you feel sexy. A handful of clangs and clattering lets you know Bucky is still puttering around the campsite. 

Crap. 

“You ready for me, baby girl?” Your bear of a boyfriend ducks his head to enter the tent. Despite the fact he’d purchased some behemoth double-room tent, the doorways were still far too short for him to enter unhindered. He shoos the dogs to the other “room” before turning toward the air mattress. “Holy crap-”

Lacking lingerie, or anything else pleasing to the eye, you gave up and jumped beneath the soft quit (stolen from your bed back home) naked. The look on Bucky’s face has you thinking back to the  _ second _ time he’d stayed the night at your place. 

* * *

The  _ first _ time he’d spent the night at your apartment should have been perfect. At this point you’d been dating long enough to feel comfortable around one another. You’d made him dinner and settled in to watch a movie. One thing led to another and you asked him to stay. When you moved to the bedroom he’d frozen. The planned night of sin had turned into the two of you staying up well into the morning talking. He was scared to be intimate with you; the first person since his recovery. He wanted to make sure he was treating you properly. 

* * *

The  _ second _ time he spent the night was the night you were silently reminiscing about when Bucky’s shell shocked face appeared in the tent opening. He’d looked at you similarly that night as well. It was thrilling you got the same reaction out of him now as the very first time. 

“This certainly is something nice.” He drawls; crawling onto air mattress. 

Your lips meet halfway with a gentle exhale. The sweet burnt sugar from s’mores makes him more delicious than usual. You pull gently on the back of his neck, craving the comforting pressure of his body against yours. His lips move from yours down to the soft valley of your neck. 

“Picked it out just for you.” You mean for it to sound sultry and confident but it comes out strangled and breathy when he sucks steady pressure into a sweet spot. Bucky pulls the quilt and throws it towards the end of the bed. You thought of protesting, as the night had gotten chilly with the sunset but the fire ignited under your skin more than made up for it. 

“I’m so fucking lucky.” His voice is low and focused. Bucky’s stopped kissing your neck and you whine at the loss of contact. He shuts you up quickly by latching onto one of your cold sensitive nipples and rolling it under his tongue. 

“I didn’t do so bad myself.” You manage to choke out while he kneads and sucks. You can tell he’s moving further south to assault you where you’re no doubt soaking by this point. It sounds wonderful, but you need him inside of you. “Clothes. Off.” 

He chuckles against your skin. By now he’s used to your vocabulary being reduced to single word sentences when you get like this. He gives the current patch of skin under his lips one last suck before shedding all his layers. 

“Bucky…”

“Yes, doll.” 

“Can we do that thing again?” You can hear the breathing between you both in the tent. The only other sounds coming from the nature outside. Literal crickets. “The thing we did for your birthday.” 

You can sense him hesitate at your request. Bucky can do rough and filthy to soft and sensual and everything in between but you could clearly tell the both of you needed more after all the mental distance the final month of your schooling had caused you both. You could see the cogwheels turning behind his facial expression; doing the mental calculations. Taking you from behind meant he couldn’t see your face and reactions; which he was craving. But what you were asking was much more intimate. 

“I want you to surround me baby. I want to feel you as much as possible.” 

It was as if a light went off. Bucky knew what you needed. He rolls you onto your stomach and places one of the pillows under the curve of your hips. He peppers kisses from the back of your calves, up the curve of your ass, down into the dip of your lower back and comes to stop in the crook of your shoulder. Your skin breaks out in raised chills. Bucky knew better than to assume it was from the crispness in the air. He beamed, taking pride in being the cause.

He positions himself above you with you bracketed between his limbs. You can feel the heat and hardness of him against you. You whimper when he lowers his weight (carefully controlled) onto you; blanketing your exposed skin with his. There was something sexy about feeling the weight and power of your boyfriend over you; knowing all the while what a sweet man lay behind his raw strength. 

Reaching around to your front, he parts your folds gently with a single hand to tease with two swirls of his palm to collect your wetness before it’s gone. He smears your arousal down his length before drawing his hips rhythmically back and forth. He’s being a tease and you want to scream. The gentle push and pull of his cock against the ridge of your ass is so close to where you need him most. You can’t angle or redirect with his frame pinning you in place. 

“Nuh uh, baby girl. No squirming. This is what you signed up for.” 

“Bucky please!” 

In any other audience it would sound pathetic or irritated but Bucky felt pure love and trust. He guides his cock into you and feels the tension of your muscles relax under him. 

“Why don’t we do this more often, darling?” He stills when he’s seated fully inside you. With your legs straight out behind you, the tightness inside feels nearly overwhelming to Bucky’s cock. 

“Special occasions, sweetheart.” You manage to push back a miniscule amount against him. “Move Bucky. Please.” 

Bucky sets a slow pace thrusting into your wetness. It’s almost painfully slow. The angle caused by the pillow under your hips allows you to feel every bit of him with a depth not possible in any other position. He brushes and grinds against your g-spot with every drag. Unlike other nights of love-making, the pace doesn’t increase. There is no jackhammering or racing to finish like the quickies necessary in between exam studying and classes. This is pleasant, leisurely and molasses slow. 

Bucky brings you closer and closer to your release with every drag and pull inside your taught walls. When he feels you fluttering around him, he stills completely and devours your mouth or neck. After three, maybe four times (you honestly lose count) you’re teetering impossibly close to your finish. Each pause of his movements brings you back from the edge but it does little to quell the raging fire settling lower in your abdomen. 

There are no words exchanged, no chorus of dirty talk, no sweet nothings. It’s unnecessary. This is the two of you reconnecting after being apart longer than ever before. You speak with your bodies. Grazes, palming, needy hands wandering to exactly where the other needs without being asked. 

Your head is nearly buried in a tangle of your arms and linen beneath your head. Bucky’s full weight rests against your back; slick with shared sweat. His hips don’t leave your backside but instead grind and press making your g-spot sing. You’re both dangerously close.

Bucky reaches his hands below you to spread your swollen lips exposing your clit to the friction of the pillow case. His metal hand encircles your wrists and pins your hands high above your head. The right hand presses heavy pressure against your hip drawing your clit against the fabric below. The pace never changes but the power increases. Your moans spill from you in a near constant stream. Bucky’s own groans have turned into near feral growls with how tight you are around him. He can tell by the pitch of your whimpers and the clenching of your walls you’re right on the edge of your release. Three more particularly long, deep thrusts send you over the precipice of your orgasm. Bucky’s own pulses and fills you two thrusts later. 

You’re both overstimulated and sticky. He grinds into you with less precision reveling in how slick and warm you are post release. 

“Bucky-” 

You don’t get to finish your lazy post-coital praise. He flips you onto your back and spreads your legs as wide as your hips permit. For a moment you lock eyes before he stares at your swollen love-abused core. It should be disarming. You would feel self-conscious if it were anyone else. Bucky holds them apart and dives into the mess you both created. 

The sounds coming from your boyfriend buried deep in your cunt were filthy. The creamy shared release coats his tongue and scruff; saturating the hair and surrounding his senses with the evidence of your lovemaking. He revels in it. He probes his tongue inside you, collecting the sweetness before sucking against your clit. It’s an embarrassingly short amount of time before your legs crash around his head and you gush with another overstimulated orgasm; this one stronger than the first. 

“That’s my girl.” 

You swat his hand away on it’s path to clean his face and draw him into a deep kiss. Tasting the both of you off his tongue is delicious and you moan into the kiss. 

“It’s so sweet, Bucky.” He settles on top of the blankets, still hot from the recent activity. He pulls you close to his chest before kissing the back of your head gently. 

“Maybe you’ll rethink your teasing next time I add all that sugar to my coffee.” 


End file.
